Telepath Blues
A Babylon 5 Story by Jesse Shearer
Chapter 3: First Meeting
Larry had no trouble finding the office where he was supposed to meet Sally Josephs, the Psicorps representative he had spoken with over the weekend. He had to wait a few minutes once he entered the room, but it didn't bother him. In fact, Larry even appreciated the quiet. The room was quieter than even his apartment, which was almost silent itself. The interview room was small and windowless, and all it contained a small table with two chairs.
"Sorry I'm late," Josephs said when she entered with a briefcase. "My last meeting took longer than expected."
"Not a problem," Larry said. "I was just enjoying the quiet. In fact, I think this is the first time in I can't remember how long I've been completely without a headache."
"Really?" Josephs asked. "Is it very bad most of the time?"
"No, not particularly," Larry replied. "Most often it's just a feeling like I'm wearing a headband. But there are days when it gets a lot worse."
"Could you describe worse for me?" Josephs asked.
"It's like banging your head against that wall five or ten times quick," Larry explained as he pointed to a cinderblock wall. "Usually, it's when I'm around noisy people."
"Define noisy," Josephs requested.
"Well, I've been taking this keyboarding class at Reshin. It's been in session for about a month," Larry explained. "There's this one woman, I'd say about twenty years old, that just doesn't seem to get the simplest things the instructor tries to teach us. Basic memos, business letters, that sort of thing, but no matter how many times somebody explains this stuff, it just won't sink in. And by the time it's all over, my head feels like it's about to explode."
"That could be stress, though," Josephs said. "Any other instances?"
"Well, there was my part time job in high school," Larry said. "Flipping burgers, fairly typical stuff. Eventually, they had me learn to actually take orders. It took me about a week to learn to predict what people were going to order, even if I'd never seen them before."
"That could be latent ability," Josephs said. "I'm going to ask you a few questions, just to see how you do."
"Shoot," Larry replied.
"I'm thinking of a number between one and ten," Josephs said, as she set her case on the table, where she opened it and removed a clipboard and pen.
"Three," Larry guessed.
"Correct," Josephs said. "Now, can you tell me what I had for breakfast?"
"This morning?" Larry asked.
"This morning," Josephs answered.
"Ah, that would be a bowl of toasted wheat bran cereal, two slices of toast with grape jam, a glass of orange juice, and coffee," Larry said.
"Two for two, Mr. Solen," Josephs said. "I'd say you do have some ability. It's probably not enough to get you past a P-2 rating, if that. And you've been scanning me, weather you're aware of it or not."
"You're pulling my leg," Larry said. "Are you sure?"
"Well, I'll have to get a few other opinions, but at this point, I'd say welcome to the one percent," Josephs said. "But before I do, tell me as much as you can about this dream you've been having. Include every detail."
"OK," Larry agreed. "Last time I had it, the time I told you about over the link, I'd had a long night at class after a full day at work. And I'd just talked to my parents. Then I went to bed at about eleven. I don't think I'd been asleep for five minutes before it started.
"In the dream, I was awake, fully dressed and walking down a tunnel or a pipe or something. After about five minutes, I came to this brightly lit room with four men in it. Three were human. The fourth was alien. From where, I don't know."
"What did the alien look like?" Josephs asked.
"I didn't really see him too clearly," Larry answered. "He was about my height, maybe a little heavier. Looked like he had dark skin and a white mask or exoskeleton on his head."
"And what about the humans?" she asked.
"All three were of average build," Larry said. "They looked like mob thugs from a bad movie from a couple hundred years ago. The one that spoke sounded like he came from around here."
"Interesting," Josephs commented. "What did they say their business was?"
"They said something about genetic manipulation so I could be a component of a telekinetic machine," Larry said. "That's the way I remember it, anyway."
"That's certainly different from the other versions I've heard," Josephs told him. "I'd like to continue this, but I'm expected for lunch. Could you come back at one this afternoon?"
"Sure," Larry said. "There's a place near here that I've been wanting to try for awhile now anyway."
"See you then, Mr. Solen," Josephs said. "And be ready for a long afternoon."
When Larry went back through the waiting room, it was about an hour later, and the receptionist was just about to go to lunch.
"How'd it go?" the receptionist asked.
"Well, P-2, if I'm lucky," Larry answered.
"Congratulations," the receptionist said. "I hope you test well."
"Thanks," Larry replied.
Not long after, Larry was entering the little restaurant, called the Mag Diner. After he took a seat and studied the menu for a few minutes, a waiter came to take his order.
"I guess I'll try the hamburger steak platter with the salad and the tea," Larry said.
"Any dressing for the salad?" the waiter asked.
"The French sounds good," Larry said.
"Very good, sir," the waiter replied.
"Hey, don't I know you from someplace?" Larry asked.
"I think not, sir," the waiter said. "I think we'd remember each other."
"Eh, you're probably right," Larry said. "But you do seem familiar."
"Well, thank you, sir," the waiter said. "I'll be back shortly with your meal."
A few moments later, Larry's meal arrived. As he ate, he realized that the waiter looked exactly like the speaking man in the dream. When Larry finished his meal, the waiter returned with the bill for the meal.
"Did you enjoy the meal, sir?" the waiter asked.
"Very much so," Larry answered. "I've seen this place a few times and have been meaning to try it."
"We appreciate the business," the waiter thanked Larry. "Would you care for some dessert?"
"No, thanks," Larry replied.
"Here is your bill, sir," the waiter said. "Someone will help you at the counter when you're ready."
After the waiter had left, Larry turned over his bill to see how much he owed and saw a note below the total.
"We are watching you. You were not meant for the Psicorp. Do not return to them," the note read.
Chapter 3: First Meeting
Larry had no trouble finding the office where he was supposed to meet Sally Josephs, the Psicorps representative he had spoken with over the weekend. He had to wait a few minutes once he entered the room, but it didn't bother him. In fact, Larry even appreciated the quiet. The room was quieter than even his apartment, which was almost silent itself. The interview room was small and windowless, and all it contained a small table with two chairs.
"Sorry I'm late," Josephs said when she entered with a briefcase. "My last meeting took longer than expected."
"Not a problem," Larry said. "I was just enjoying the quiet. In fact, I think this is the first time in I can't remember how long I've been completely without a headache."
"Really?" Josephs asked. "Is it very bad most of the time?"
"No, not particularly," Larry replied. "Most often it's just a feeling like I'm wearing a headband. But there are days when it gets a lot worse."
"Could you describe worse for me?" Josephs asked.
"It's like banging your head against that wall five or ten times quick," Larry explained as he pointed to a cinderblock wall. "Usually, it's when I'm around noisy people."
"Define noisy," Josephs requested.
"Well, I've been taking this keyboarding class at Reshin. It's been in session for about a month," Larry explained. "There's this one woman, I'd say about twenty years old, that just doesn't seem to get the simplest things the instructor tries to teach us. Basic memos, business letters, that sort of thing, but no matter how many times somebody explains this stuff, it just won't sink in. And by the time it's all over, my head feels like it's about to explode."
"That could be stress, though," Josephs said. "Any other instances?"
"Well, there was my part time job in high school," Larry said. "Flipping burgers, fairly typical stuff. Eventually, they had me learn to actually take orders. It took me about a week to learn to predict what people were going to order, even if I'd never seen them before."
"That could be latent ability," Josephs said. "I'm going to ask you a few questions, just to see how you do."
"Shoot," Larry replied.
"I'm thinking of a number between one and ten," Josephs said, as she set her case on the table, where she opened it and removed a clipboard and pen.
"Three," Larry guessed.
"Correct," Josephs said. "Now, can you tell me what I had for breakfast?"
"This morning?" Larry asked.
"This morning," Josephs answered.
"Ah, that would be a bowl of toasted wheat bran cereal, two slices of toast with grape jam, a glass of orange juice, and coffee," Larry said.
"Two for two, Mr. Solen," Josephs said. "I'd say you do have some ability. It's probably not enough to get you past a P-2 rating, if that. And you've been scanning me, weather you're aware of it or not."
"You're pulling my leg," Larry said. "Are you sure?"
"Well, I'll have to get a few other opinions, but at this point, I'd say welcome to the one percent," Josephs said. "But before I do, tell me as much as you can about this dream you've been having. Include every detail."
"OK," Larry agreed. "Last time I had it, the time I told you about over the link, I'd had a long night at class after a full day at work. And I'd just talked to my parents. Then I went to bed at about eleven. I don't think I'd been asleep for five minutes before it started.
"In the dream, I was awake, fully dressed and walking down a tunnel or a pipe or something. After about five minutes, I came to this brightly lit room with four men in it. Three were human. The fourth was alien. From where, I don't know."
"What did the alien look like?" Josephs asked.
"I didn't really see him too clearly," Larry answered. "He was about my height, maybe a little heavier. Looked like he had dark skin and a white mask or exoskeleton on his head."
"And what about the humans?" she asked.
"All three were of average build," Larry said. "They looked like mob thugs from a bad movie from a couple hundred years ago. The one that spoke sounded like he came from around here."
"Interesting," Josephs commented. "What did they say their business was?"
"They said something about genetic manipulation so I could be a component of a telekinetic machine," Larry said. "That's the way I remember it, anyway."
"That's certainly different from the other versions I've heard," Josephs told him. "I'd like to continue this, but I'm expected for lunch. Could you come back at one this afternoon?"
"Sure," Larry said. "There's a place near here that I've been wanting to try for awhile now anyway."
"See you then, Mr. Solen," Josephs said. "And be ready for a long afternoon."
When Larry went back through the waiting room, it was about an hour later, and the receptionist was just about to go to lunch.
"How'd it go?" the receptionist asked.
"Well, P-2, if I'm lucky," Larry answered.
"Congratulations," the receptionist said. "I hope you test well."
"Thanks," Larry replied.
Not long after, Larry was entering the little restaurant, called the Mag Diner. After he took a seat and studied the menu for a few minutes, a waiter came to take his order.
"I guess I'll try the hamburger steak platter with the salad and the tea," Larry said.
"Any dressing for the salad?" the waiter asked.
"The French sounds good," Larry said.
"Very good, sir," the waiter replied.
"Hey, don't I know you from someplace?" Larry asked.
"I think not, sir," the waiter said. "I think we'd remember each other."
"Eh, you're probably right," Larry said. "But you do seem familiar."
"Well, thank you, sir," the waiter said. "I'll be back shortly with your meal."
A few moments later, Larry's meal arrived. As he ate, he realized that the waiter looked exactly like the speaking man in the dream. When Larry finished his meal, the waiter returned with the bill for the meal.
"Did you enjoy the meal, sir?" the waiter asked.
"Very much so," Larry answered. "I've seen this place a few times and have been meaning to try it."
"We appreciate the business," the waiter thanked Larry. "Would you care for some dessert?"
"No, thanks," Larry replied.
"Here is your bill, sir," the waiter said. "Someone will help you at the counter when you're ready."
After the waiter had left, Larry turned over his bill to see how much he owed and saw a note below the total.
"We are watching you. You were not meant for the Psicorp. Do not return to them," the note read.